


The Lion and the Sparrow

by SakuraBreeze



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 09:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraBreeze/pseuds/SakuraBreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lythana Lavellan takes it upon herself to do some exploring of Skyhold before her first meeting with her advisers. She gets lost, and finds Cullen. Her fate is sealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Inquisitor, Skyhold and a Templar's Bedroom

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a prequel of Memories Don't Fade for those who read it when I first posted it. The next chapter will be Memories Don't Fade.  
> Also, this fic was written before the release of the game, so there are some major inaccuracies/divergences plot-wise.

Lythana was never one for frivolities or flamboyant possessions. So when she arrived at Skyhold and became the owner of a very lavish bed suite, as well as the leader of a prestigious organization, it was somewhat difficult to adjust. Being the First of a Dalish clan, she just wasn’t used to all of this. In her entire lifetime, she had encountered perhaps one or two shem, but now there was a whole plethora of them at her disposal. It was rather… Jarring. One man particularly so. And meeting him had to be one of her more embarrassing moments.

She had decided to explore Skyhold some time before her first war meeting with her advisors. She thought that it would be best to know where everything was within the keep, just in case. It was magnificent, really. Lythana wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was a little in awe of the place. Travelling among the Dalish, she didn’t get to see human constructs very often. The keep’s walls arched high above her, and wide windows filled the rooms with light. Beautiful paintings and tapestries decorated the walls at seemingly random intervals. When she realized that she was gaping, she shut her mouth quickly. People were coming to and fro in an almost constant stream, so when the amount of servants and residents rushing about all but plummeted to naught, Lythana knew that something was wrong.

She looked about her current surroundings. There was a desk with papers piled atop it, so Lythana guessed that it she must have been inside an office of some sorts. There was also a small staircase that led up to a loft. She stepped further inside, looking around curiously. Eventually, she took a tentative peek at the papers on the desk. Various forms and documents and requests, it seemed.

A soft cough from the doorway caused Lythana to jump and let out a high-pitched squeal. She turned around to see a human man – an extremely handsome human man – in the doorway, looking halfway between amused and annoyed. He had blond hair that was brushed back somewhat, and was wearing bulky, but undoubtedly well-made, armor coupled with a wonderful, red coat.

Lythana swept her blonde hair out of her face and felt herself flush. “Oh, Creators,” she cursed to herself, and then addressed the man, “please forgive me. I decided to look around by myself for a while and… I’m lost, I’m afraid.” She winced a little, and then gave him an apologetic smile.

The man raised his eyebrows in interest. “And who might you be?” He asked, squaring his shoulders and resting his arms behind his back. “It’s always a point of interest when you find a stranger in your bedroom.”

“This is your bedroom?” She asked, surprised. “But where do you sleep?” He didn’t answer; he just kept looking at her expectantly. “Oh, I’m sorry. Uh. My name is Lythana – Lythana Lavellan.”

“Lavellan?” He repeated, stepping forwards. “Then you must be the Inquisitor. My name is Cullen, former Templar and to be one of your advisors.”

A Templar? She felt her heart sink a little. Did he know that she was a mage? She glanced back to check if she had her staff with her; she did. He had to know. Would he hate her for it? Would he give her the cold shoulder? Creators, she had barely become Inquisitor and she might have already made an enemy. She must have been silent for some time, because he was suddenly frowning.

“Inquisitor? Is everything okay?” He asked.

“Oh, yes, fine. Sorry,” she said. “And my apologies again for, uh, being in your bedroom uninvited.”

“No harm done,” he replied, giving her an easy smile that made her heart skip a beat.

“So – Ser Cullen. Is there any chance I could convince you to show me the way to the war room?” She asked, blushing again, as she scratched the back of her head awkwardly.  
He laughed then. Whether it was at her, or just to ease the tension, she didn’t know – but she felt her face heat even more, and so she covered it with her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she groaned, the sound muffled slightly.

“It’s okay, Skyhold is a big place,” he assured her. “I was just about to head there myself, after picking up some papers.” He strode further into the room, brushing past her to retrieve some forms from his desk. “Let’s go.”

Lythana followed as Cullen led out the door and into the hallway. They fell into a slightly awkward silence as they walked, their footsteps echoing off the walls. After what seemed like hours, she finally decided to speak up.

“You said you were a Templar?” She inquired quietly. When he didn’t answer for a good few moments, she thought he might not have heard her.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Do you dislike mages?” She asked, and then winced at the bluntness of it.

He made a non-committal noise. “I do not dislike them as people, but I’ve seen the evil they can do. I was both in the Ferelden Circle when it was destroyed and in Kirkwall when the rebellion began.”

“Oh.”

They fell into silence again. Almost an eon later, they finally came to the war room. The others were already there waiting for them. Without missing a beat, they delved into the issues that they would be facing, discussing the best ways to counteract them, and, just like that, Lythana truly began the work of the Inquisition.


	2. Memories Don't Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lythana Lavellan is having a hard time coming to terms with being the Inquisitor. Comfort comes from a surprising source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the same as the oneshot under the same name that I posted the other day. So if you've read that, you can skip this chapter.

Lythana Lavellan sat at her desk, elbows propped up on the dark mahogany and fingers clasped tightly together. She stared absently into space as thoughts raced through her mind. Thoughts of her old life, thoughts of how she became Inquisitor, thoughts of the things she had done as Inquisitor. Sitting back with a grimace, she brought her goblet of wine to her lips and drank. A warm feeling spread through her almost immediately, and she let out a soft sigh of relief as it ebbed away the sick feeling in her stomach. She took another sip, and another, but no matter how much she drank, the thoughts, and the memories, remained.

Becoming the Inquisitor was the last thing she had expected to do in her lifetime. All she really wanted was to be with her clan – to continue being the First to her Keeper, and then to become Keeper herself one day, so that she could continue to protect and preserve the knowledge of her people. But then she had to be cursed with this blasted mark and have the fate of the world riding on her shoulders. And she couldn’t even do that properly.

So many people had died since she became Inquisitor – so many people had died when she became Inquisitor. Why had she been the one to survive? So many innocent people had died that day – children and farmers and simple workers. So why was it her? There were so many more suitable people in Thedas to bear the mark, such as that Hawke woman she had heard so much about since coming here, or the Warden, the woman who had given her people a homeland again. But instead the Creators or the Maker or Andraste – or whomever it was that made these damned decisions – had decided to give the mark to her, an inept, powerless, feeble, stupid-

She stood up. Her chair pushed back with a loud scraping noise, nearly toppling over. She let out another sigh and moved over to her window, hoping the view would calm her. Lythana felt herself wobble a little as she walked, and wondered for a moment just how much wine she had consumed.

The sky outside was already darkening behind the cover of thick, grey clouds. Despite the dreariness of it, Lythana enjoyed the prospect of possible rain. She looked down into the courtyard to see distant figures sparring. As she lost herself watching their repetitive, almost entrancing movements, regret and doubt crept back into her mind.  
Just how many people had died since she had become Inquisitor? How many people had died because of her?

Sure, she had killed in the name of self-preservation and defense while acting as First for her clan before. But this was different. She had sentenced almost countless people to death, and in the name of what? The Inquisition? Because they didn’t like that people were calling her the Herald of Andraste? She didn’t even want that title! By Fen’Harel, most of those people could be innocent for all she knew. At least one comfort came in knowing she had never made a poor mage Tranquil before.

Suddenly, she felt sick again. She looked down at her hands to see that they had begun shaking. She wrapped them tightly around her waist, willing them to stop. But they didn’t. Tears began to roll down her face, and she covered her mouth with an unsteady hand to muffle her quiet sobs.

“Inquisitor?” Came a familiar voice. She stiffened and whirled around. Had she forgotten to lock her door again? “Ah, there you are. I-” Cullen cut himself off and his expression shifted into a concern frown. “Is everything alright, Inquisitor?”

“Oh, Commander?” She squeaked, doing her best to sound normal. She tried to wipe her tears away with the heels of her hands – unsuccessfully. “No, um, yes, sorry. How unprofessional of me, to have one of my advisors see me like this.” She laughed bitterly.

He began to walk towards her slowly, almost cautiously – as if one misstep would cause her to flee. As if she had anywhere to go.

She took a small step back. “Please, Commander, there’s no need. I’m fine, honestly.”

She jolted a little when a broad hand was placed firmly on her shoulder. “Inquisitor,” he said gently. “You needn’t put on a front. What’s the matter?”

Lythana felt tears fall with renewed strength. “I’m sorry, I Just- Creators, I’m so pathetic,” she hiccupped. “I’m not suitable for this at all. So many people, because of me- Because I couldn’t-”

“Maker, no,” Cullen interjected, sounding a little shocked, and knitting his eyebrows together. He pulled her into a tight embrace so suddenly that she stumbled a little, causing her arms to be almost crushed in between the two of them. “Don’t think that. Don’t take the weight of that upon yourself. You are a more capable leader than anyone could have guessed.”

Lythana’s mind reeled with confusion for a moment. Why was Cullen doing this? To simply calm her down so that she could do her job, or because of something more? Her heart fluttered at the possibility, but she quickly squashed the feeling. No, that wouldn’t happen. She was just a mage to him. There couldn’t be anything substantial to… Whatever this was. Nevertheless, her tears flowed freely now, and she began to shake once more. Cullen just smoothed her hair and whispered soothingly in her ear.

And they stayed like that, for a time, with Lythana burying her face into the fur of Cullen’s jacket and letting the tears come, and with Cullen holding Lythana steady all the while.


	3. Saving Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident in her room, Lythana isn't really sure how to face Cullen.

After the incident in her room, Lythana found it difficult to look Cullen in the eye. She was far too embarrassed. Previously, she had found being around Cullen somewhat awkward at times – he was incredibly attractive, and she couldn’t always help the light pinkness that crept into her cheeks when he stood a little too close. But now it was even worse. She just felt bad for the man for having to be the one to calm her in her semi-drunken hysterics.

When she had finally stopped shaking and crying, he had looked at her with concern – or pity, she wasn’t sure. She had thanked him and assured him that she was alright – about which he looked somewhat skeptical – and had apologized again and again for the inconvenience. He had just wanted some documents signed; he shouldn’t have had to deal with her weakness. Though he had assured her that it was no trouble at all, that he wanted to make sure that she was alright as much as anything else, she wasn’t sure that she could believe him. All she seemed to have done since arriving here was cause him trouble.

The others had probably noticed her change in demeanor around him, because every so often they would give her an odd look or a frown. She didn’t know whether or not Cullen himself had noticed, because she couldn’t actually work up the courage to find out.

She supposed that it was of little consequence, as long as she did her job to the best of her ability. Cullen had said that she was a better leader than they could have guessed. By the Creators, she hoped that was true.

She stood by the war table alone, silently mulling over all the pieces scattered upon it. It had been a long while since their meeting had ended and everyone had filed out of the room one by one, yet Lythana remained still. She pulled absently on her hair, twirling it and untwirling it around her finger. What would be her best next move? Who should she get aid from – the mages or the Templars? She felt sympathy for the mages, being one herself, but would they be the most effective? If she sided with the one, would the other hold a vendetta against the Inquisition? Which would she be most willing to fight against?

She sighed, sagging heavily against the table. No one had warned her about how difficult this would be. Even so, she was determined to do this right.

“Inquisitor?” Came a surprised voice from behind her. “You’re still here?”

She turned around to see Josephine, dressed in casual clothes, standing in the doorway.

“I might ask you the same question,” Lythana responded lightly. “Why are you here so late?”

“I just came to retrieve some papers. Are you alright, Inquisitor? You seem rather off today. Especially around Commander Cullen.”

She looked away. “I’m fine, Josephine. Thank you for your concern.”

Josephine shook her head. “That isn’t how it seems to me.”

Lythana looked up at her to see that she had a concerned frown on her face. She sighed. “I was having a, um. A rough evening the other night,” she explained. “The Commander was the one who found me in my room and calmed me down. It was unprofessional of me, and I’m just embarrassed for making him do that.”

Josephine sighed in turn. “You didn’t make him do anything. Cullen wouldn’t have done anything he was uncomfortable with, or didn’t want to do.”

Lythana made a non-committal noise. “Even so…”

The other woman shrugged. “Make of it what you will, but he does care for your wellbeing,” she said. “That much is obvious. Goodnight, Inquisitor.”

“Goodnight,” she replied, and turned back to the war table as she heard footsteps trailing away. Lythana spent another few minutes staring uselessly at the map and its pieces, before giving up with a sigh. She pushed away from the table and began to wander the halls, lost in thought. Eventually, she decided that she needed some fresh air, and headed to the steps that descended into the courtyard, seating herself there.

It was late. The sun had long since set, and Skyhold was almost deathly quiet. The only sounds were that of the chill wind that bit into her cheeks, and of the guards marching along the walls in the distance. She shivered at the cold and wrapped her arms around herself. The cold wasn’t, however, unpleasant. In fact, it cleared her mind a little.

How did Cullen feel about her? Josephine had said that he cared for her wellbeing, but what did that mean, exactly? She brought her knees up and rested her chin on them, letting out a long sigh. It would be okay, she thought to herself. Her advisors and companions seemed to believe in her, so she must be doing something right, mustn’t she? She jumped a little when she heard the door behind her open and the sound of boots approach. Lo and behold, it was the man she had been avoiding – Cullen.

“That’s the third time I’ve managed to sneak up on you,” he teased.

“That’s true,” she said, looking away. “How did you know I was here?”

Despite all her inner hopes, Cullen descended the steps and sat next to her. “I didn’t,” he admitted. “I was up working at my desk when Josephine came by and told me that you were still in the war room. When you weren’t there, I came here for some fresh air.”

“Great minds think alike,” she deadpanned, staring pointedly at the ground.

He chuckled. “They do indeed. Is everything alright, Inquisitor? You’re not still worried about what we talked about the other night, are you?”

“Not exactly,” she said, scratching the shaved side of her head lightly and blushing a little. “If you have that much faith in me I must be doing something right.”

“You are,” he said warmly, and Lythana could hear the smile in his voice. She looked up at him then, which made her face heat even more. She was suddenly grateful for the darkness. He was grinning easily at her, white teeth flashing in the night. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “So what is worrying you?”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m always so clumsy and airheaded, and you had to practically take care of me. Creators, I’m an adult and was the First of my clan. I must be such a nuisance, I’m sorry.”

“That’s what you’re worried about now?” He asked, and there was an amused glint in his eyes. “Stop fretting so much. I’ve told you, haven’t I? You aren’t a nuisance, Inquisitor.”

“Lythana,” she said.

“What?”

“My name,” she said. “Call me Lythana.”

“Lythana,” he repeated, and the sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” she said, ducking her head to hide her blush. Despite the darkness, she was still somewhat convinced that he would be able to see the redness of her cheeks.

“Stop hiding your face,” he said with a small huff of laughter, lifting her chin up with his fingers. She inhaled sharply. Their faces were close together now, and Lythana felt as if her cheeks were on fire. It must have been a thoughtless move, however, because suddenly Cullen was pulling his hand away and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “My apologies, I-”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, maybe a little too quickly.

Cullen smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing. “It’s late,” he said as he stood up, offering his hand to her. “It’d be for the best to head to our rooms.”

Lythana nodded and, hesitantly, took his hand. Even through his gloves, it was incredibly warm and Lythana wished that she could hold it forever. But alas, he let go once she was standing. They walked inside together, heading in the direction of their bedrooms. He walked with Lythana to hers, pausing only momentarily to bid her goodnight. After returning the pleasantry, she entered her room and shut the door quietly behind her, her heart pounding in her ears all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read this far/are keeping up with this! :3  
> Thanks to Liilaah and Aleksiel for being my betas~~  
> My tumblr is commander-hansomeface, as usual  
> Feel free to let me know if I can make any improvements!


	4. Stolen Breath and Meddlesome Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sera goes out of her way to embarrass Lythana in front of Cullen, and some papers steal the Inquisitor's breath away.

Whenever she laid eyes on Cullen, Lythana’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure whether that was better or worse than not being able to look at him at all. Whenever he got a little too close, she would have to look away for fear that everyone would see her face turning beetroot red.

Despite all her efforts, however, some of her companions most definitely noticed. Especially Sera.

It happened when she and Cullen were talking. Cullen had stopped her while she was on her way to practice some new spells.

“Oh, Inquisitor! There you are,” he said.

“Cullen, what did I say about my name?” She huffed, doing her best to ignore the way her heartbeat immediately picked up and act confident.

“Right, Lythana, my apologies,” he replied with a small smirk. He held out some papers. “I need you to look at these and sign them if they are agreeable.”

She took them tentatively and began to leaf through them. “What are they?” She asked, glancing briefly at Sera, who had just entered the hallway.

“Terms of alliance from Ferelden,” Cullen explained. Sera was wearing a worryingly mischievous grin now, and began approaching, but Lythana chose to ignore her for the time being.

“Already?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I’ll have them back to you by tonight, Commander.”

“Commander?” He raised an eyebrow. “Lythana, please. Call me Cullen.”

Lythana scratched at the back of her head. “Of course, sorry,” she said. She glanced briefly at Sera again, who was now standing behind Cullen. She frowned slightly.

“There’s no need to apologise,” he said.

“You apologised for the same thing earlier,” she retorted playfully.

“I suppose I did,” he grinned.

Sera chose that moment to strike. She brought two fingers up to her lips and spread them out so that one finger was on each side of her mouth. She then stuck her tongue out and began flicking it in and out, as she wiggled her eyebrows and gestured suggestively to Cullen. Lythana felt her face heat almost immediately, and she knew that even the tips of her ears would be red she was so embarrassed.

“Sera!” She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands and peeking out between her fingers.

Cullen turned around just in time to see what she was doing, before she quickly dropped her hand and pretended to be innocent. He looked a little taken aback, and Lythana could have sworn that there was now a slight pinkness to his cheeks.

“What are you doing?” He asked sternly, his jaw clenching.

“Oh, nothing,” Sera chimed as she turned and began to stroll away, whistling all the while.

Cullen turned back to Lythana and cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. “Well, Lythana. I, uh. I’d best be going,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Right,” she nodded, dropping her hands despite the fact that her face still felt like it had been inside a furnace. “I’ll bring these by to you in the war room.”

He nodded in return and strode past her purposefully. Lythana looked anywhere but him as he went by, and only when the sound of his footsteps disappeared did she begin to walk forward again. Sera was waiting for her around the corner with a huge grin plastered over her face.

“Why did you do that?” Lythana groaned exasperatedly.

“To embarrass you,” Sera responded simply, shrugging. “I do enjoy teasing people who are dancing around their feelings for one another.”

Lythana found that she didn’t have anything to say to that, so instead she just grumbled and continued walking.

She trained for a good few hours, trying to clear her head and, more precisely, to cool her face. She practiced some attack spells on dummies, and even spent some time sparring wish Solas. During their match, Solas brought up Cullen, but Lythana had told him that now wasn’t the time.

Afterwards, she bathed and changed from her battle clothes into some more comfortable ones. She read through the papers Cullen had given her and, satisfied with the terms, signed them off. Then, after a brief chat with Dorian about when next he would be teaching her chess (she was terrible at the game), she was off to another short meeting with her advisors.

She had to admit that facing Cullen this time around was somehow even more awkward than it had been before, if that was even possible. Sera’s earlier… Gesturing commentary had sent Lythana’s imagination into all sorts of dirty places. She just hoped that she was able to hide it. If how her companions had been reacting earlier was any indication, the answer was no. All she could do was get through it.

The meeting ended quickly enough, and Josephine and Leliana hastened out of the room when it was over. Lythana lingered by the table and continued to mull over the choices that were facing her. She would have to come to a decision soon.

Someone cleared their throat from behind her. She turned around to see that it was Cullen, and leaned back against the table.

“You aren’t going to stay here all night again, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

She chuckled. “No, I don’t think I will. I’ve come to the realization that I do need sleep.”

“Have you, now?” He paused. “Do you have those papers for me?”

“Oh! Yes, I do,” she said, turning around. She had kept them beside her for most of the day. Turning back to face Cullen, she offered the papers to him. “Here you are.”

He moved forward and reached out to take the papers, lingering when their fingers brushed. Lythana felt her breath hitch, which he must have heard because there was suddenly a glint of want in his eyes, though she scarcely believed it. He moved closer, so that they were only inches apart.

“Commander,” she heard herself whisper, almost inaudibly.

His eyes flicked from hers to her lips. Then he was moving even closer, slowly leaning in further and further until their faces were so close that their breath tickled each other’s faces. She felt like a caged sparrow under the intense gaze of a hungry lion. Her lips parted and she inhaled sharply, and-

Yet again, someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Lythana jumped in fright, and accidentally head-butted Cullen. He stumbled backwards, rubbing his forehead as he turned around. Leliana was entering the room.

“Please excuse me,” she said, sounding beyond amused. “I’m afraid that I forgot some things in here.”

The spymaster hurried in to retrieve the aforementioned ‘things’ before leaving again. Lythana blushed furiously both at the thought of what almost happened, and at having Leliana walk in on them, and covered her face with her hands again, slumping against the table.

“I have to go,” Cullen said, breathlessly. “Goodnight, Lythana.”

Lythana quickly dropped her hands, intending to protest, but before she could say anything Cullen was out the door.

“Oh, creators,” she muttered to herself. “Why must you curse me so?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting to some almost-kisses huehuehue :3  
> Thanks to my usual beta-buds for doing their thing~ :D  
> As usual, my tumblr is commander-handsomeface
> 
> There's most likely going to be some angst coming your guys' way soon~~


	5. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lythana has to make a decision between the mages and the Templars - she can wait no longer. But every choice has a consequence. The question is, how much will this choice cost her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there's some violence at the end of this chapter, if that's triggering for you at all.

The time had come when Lythana could not put off the decision any longer. Mages or Templars?

She paced back and forth along the length of her room. Opinions among her advisors and companions were split almost evenly. Cullen, of course, favoured the Templars. Would he be angry if she chose the former?

Truth be told, she was unable to think objectively on the matter. Deep down, she couldn’t help but side with the mages out of principle. If it came down to it and she had to support one of the groups in their own cause, she knew that she would be unable to support the Templars. Lythana had heard stories of the Circles, and what life was like inside. She had heard especially detailed stories about Kirkwall’s Circle from Varric. She could easily imagine herself in the shoes of the mages, being one herself, and didn’t wish that fate upon anyone.

On the other hand, what if things became like the Tevinter Imperium again? Her people had once been enslaved under the rule of mages. That would be the last thing that she wanted.

She stopped and let out a half-sigh, half-groan as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed to make a decision today. All parties involved had made that perfectly clear. Both the mages and the Templars would be sending delegates to hear her decision.

She moved to sit at her desk, took out a blank piece of paper and a quill, and began to jot down notes on each. Hopefully writing things down would help to make her decision more clear.

About an hour later, there was a soft knock on her door and she still hadn’t come to a decision. 

“Yes?” Lythana called.

A servant poked her head through the door. “Inquisitor? The delegates are here,” the servant said shyly.

She cursed. “Thank you. I will be there soon.”

The servant nodded and left, shutting the door again behind her. Lythana stood and stared out the window. It was time, whether she liked it or not.

After dressing herself in more appropriate, formal attire, she left her private chambers and headed for the throne room. When she arrived, the delegates were already there, shooting blatant glares at one another. Her advisers flanked the throne. She sat down and sighed internally.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen’s voice caught her attention. “I still strongly recommend siding with the Templars. They are a strong force that will surely be effective in combating fade spirits.”

Lythana looked at him silently for a moment. It was something she had heard him say countless times before. But the same could be said for both groups. No matter what the future may hold, she couldn’t just sit back and allow oppression of any groups to continue.

She stood up. “My decision is this: the Inquisition asks that the mages aid us in the time to come. In return, they have our support,” she announced. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cullen’s face hardening.

The mage delegate bowed. “Thank you, Inquisitor,” he said, before exiting the room. The Templar did not say anything; he just shot her a disgusted look before storming out.

Lythana didn’t let herself relax just yet. She nodded to her advisors. “Thank you all for your input,” she said, before hurrying out as well.

The look on Cullen’s face frightened her. He did not like her decision - that much was clear. She didn’t want to deal with whatever protests he might have just then, however. So she made for her room as quickly as possible.

Only when she was there did she let out the sigh that she had been holding in. She sat at her desk again, letting herself relax into her chair. Was that the right decision? She didn’t know, but there was no going back on it now.

“You sided with the mages?” Came an angry voice from her doorway. She turned towards it tiredly to see Cullen sweeping into her room, fury blatant on her face. “Have you forgotten what I told you? Mages bring about calamity! I’ve seen it with my own eyes! Need I remind you what the Magisters do to your people?”

Lythana stood up again, straightening, as she felt rage bubble in her core. “And need I remind you, Ser, that I am a mage?” She retorted. “I have seen what oppression is like, what it does to people. Elvhen flock to the Dalish from the Alienages, gaunt and sick. I have read the stories of my people, given to me by our Keeper. I will not sit by and let it happen to others when I can do something about it. Meanwhile you just watched as the mages were treated like dirt in Kirkwall.”  
“It isn’t oppression. It’s control.”

“Really?” She laughed. “That isn’t oppression? Forcing men and women and children to live under constant watch, not allowing them to have basic rights or even to leave your Circles – you don’t think that’s oppression? I’m sorry, Cullen, but I’ve made my choice.”

“Then you’re no better than that terrorist that destroyed the chantry,” he snarled. “You’ve doomed us all, Inquisitor.” With that, he turned and stalked from the room.  
Lythana fell back in her chair. That last comment had stung. A terrorist? Doomed them all? That was a bit far-fetched, but it hurt nonetheless. She brought a hand up to her face and started a little when it came away wet. She got up, forcing herself to calm, and hurried after Cullen. They could resolve this, she was sure. She could make him see that this was the right decision. She could close the rift that she could feel already forming between them. There was still time.

She went to his room. He wasn’t there.

She ran through the halls without abandon, receiving odd looks from those she passed but ignoring them.

He wasn’t in the war room either.

She made for the front courtyard, throwing open the main doors and practically jumping down the stairs. Cullen was already riding out the gate. She went after him, but only managed three more steps when suddenly there was a piercing pain in her abdomen. She stopped and looked down.

There was a sword – a sword protruding from her stomach. She touched her stomach gently, her eyes widening in shock when they became stained with blood. Her blood. There was so much blood.

“Mage scum,” she heard a voice hiss from behind her.

She coughed, falling forward to her knees when the sword was removed from her.

“Cullen,” she heard herself whisper as she careened forward, head hitting the ground hard. It was the last thing she heard before she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huehuehue, angst! Let me know what you guys think~
> 
> Major thanks to my betas as usual xD especially for pointing out dumb stuff like me accidentally writing 'out' instead of 'at' - what even....
> 
> At any rate, the next chapter should be up tomorrow! :3


	6. Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen learns of Lythana's fate and has to face the consequences of his actions.

Cullen rode hard and fast, stopping only when it began to get dark, fury clouding his head. How could she do that? Time and time again, he had advised her to choose the Templars. How could she side with the abominations that had done so much evil, and used so much blood magic? Even though she was a mage herself, surely she could see the danger?

He dismounted, tethered his horse to a tree, and then went about setting up a camp fire and catching some food. It was easy enough, and when he was done he sat and glared into the fire. The Inquisitor may have just sentenced them all to their doom. If blood mages found their way into the ranks of the Inquisition, who knew what could happen. Demons could tear apart the Inquisition itself from the inside.

He definitely needed a few days to cool his head before he could go back – if he went back.

That night, under the stars, he dreamt again of the fall of the Ferelden Circle. He dreamt of having to kill Amell, the mage he once loved, and her dying in his arms. Then, he dreamt of Lythana. Her beautiful, bright smile and her adorable, shy blush. It all turned to ash. Blood began to drip from her mouth, and her expression twisted into shock and fear, and then she crumbled away.

He woke up. His heart hammered in his chest, and a cold sweat ran along his face. He sat up and forced his breathing to slow. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. So why did his heart feel so heavy?

Realizing that it was already dawn, he ignored the feeling and packed up his camp. He couldn’t go back there just yet.

He rode south for a time, stopping only to rest and to eat. Cullen found that riding helped to clear his mind. The next day, the Templar delegate from Skyhold caught up with him.

It was around noon, and Cullen had stopped on the side of the road to eat something he had bought from the last town through which he had passed. Even from a distance as the Templar approached, Cullen could see the pleasantly surprised smile that spread across the man’s lips.

The man dismounted beside him and said, “Ah, Commander, just the man I was looking for.”

“What is it that you need?” He asked, a little coldly.

“I just wished to inform you that the Inquisitor will no longer be a, ah, _problem_ for the mage suppression.”

Cullen stood, squaring his shoulders, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“You provided a very good distraction when you rode away,” the man said. “She was readying to chase after you. I took that chance to drive a sword right through her back. We won’t have to worry about the Inquisition going against the Templars anymore.”

Cullen’s blood went cold. “What did you say?” He hissed.

The man frowned. “Did you not hear me, Ser? I disposed of the Inquisitor.”

Cullen couldn’t find the words with which to respond. He was at a loss. Instead, he drew his sword and directed his pent up rage at the Templar. He swung his blade heavily but precisely, landing hit after hit. The younger, and obviously far more inexperienced, man didn’t stand a chance. Cullen swiveled his sword upwards, leaving a great gash across his chest where his armor had already been weakened, and then brought it down again, severing the man’s head.

Cullen stood there, breathing heavily for a moment, before the reality of what the man had said hit him. If he was telling the truth, then Lythana could be dead. He quickly mounted his horse and galloped northward once more, stopping only once to sleep that night. Even then, he could only toss and turn, a sickening worry gripping sharply at his gut.

When he arrived back at Skyhold he was ragged and breathless, but he would not rest until he found her. Everyone watched as he stormed through the keep. He swept into the war room, where Leliana and Josephine were talking quietly to one another.

“Where is she?” He demanded. They both gave him looks that were halfway between pitying and annoyed.

“A private room near the medical ward,” Leliana informed him, “being healed by the mage delegate.”

Cullen felt relief wash over him. “She isn’t dead?”

Their faces softened. “No,” Josephine replied. “She hasn’t awoken yet, however.”

He barely caught those last few words; he was already running towards the medical ward. He checked every room as he approached. Most of them were empty, but when he found Lythana, tears stung his eyes.

He went to her bedside and collapsed to his knees, taking one of her hands in his. Her cheeks were gaunt, her face sickeningly pale, and her lips had a worrying blue tint to them. He brought her hand to his face and pressed his lips to her fingers lightly. He felt a sudden, crippling guilt take ahold of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen went back, yay! But the angst continues :3  
> Come say hi to me on tumblr at commander-handsomeface!


	7. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lythana wakes up, and both she and Cullen have to deal with their own guilt.

Cullen felt heavy after that, and heavier still with each passing day that Lythana didn’t awaken. Every day, he would sit by her bedside for at least an hour, watching and waiting for her to open her eyes. Every time she didn’t, guilt stabbed at Cullen.

If he had been there, could he have stopped this from happening? If he hadn’t left, would the Templar even have had the opportunity to do what he did? If she hadn’t been chasing after him, would Lythana have let her guard down so much?

Questions buzzed through his mind as he hunched over his desk, scribbling away furiously at various documents.

The damage had been extensive, Cullen had been told. The sword had managed to cut through and puncture many of her vital organs. The only reason that she was even alive was because the mage, Numar, had been nearby.

Maker, he was such a fool.

Mages possessed the potential for great evil and destruction, it was true, but they also possessed the potential for kindness and miracles. If not for them… Cullen didn’t want to think about it.

Leliana had approached him and asked how he knew of Lythana’s fate, and Cullen had told her the truth. She had looked at him with a mixture of exasperation at the fact that they would now have to deal with angry Templars, and what Cullen thought might be understanding, or amusement.

“Commander? _Ser_?” Came a somewhat irritated voice from his doorway. He looked up to see a servant standing there, and he realised that she must have been calling him for quite some time.

“Yes?”

“I have been sent to tell you that the Inquisitor has awoken,” he girl said.

Cullen stood immediately. “Thank you,” he said, and with that, he was out the door.

******

Lythana woke slowly, and a little reluctantly. Her head was pounding, and there was a throbbing pain that seemed to come from everywhere. When she opened her eyes, she had to squint at the brightness of the room for a good few minutes before they were able to adjust. She tried to sit up, but was met by a searing pain in her abdomen and was pushed back down gently by a soft hand. She turned her head to see Numar sitting here, watching her carefully.

“It would be best that you didn’t move, Inquisitor,” the man said. “You aren’t completely healed yet. It was a bad wound, so it will take time.”

“Thank you,” she said. “What happened?”

A disgusted look crossed Numar’s face. “The Templar stabbed you from behind as you were running after the Commander.”

“I… See. Where-?”

She was interrupted when the door to her small room was suddenly opened. She turned to see that, of course, it was Cullen that was standing there. His expression was a mixture of shock and relief and something else that Lythana couldn’t quite place. Still a little groggy from sleep, Lythana felt a wide grin spread across her face before she could do anything to compose herself.

“Ah, speak of the devil. I will take my leave now,” Numar said, before he rose and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

“You’re here,” she breathed. Cullen nodded stiffly and moved to sit at her bedside, looking a little awkward.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

Lythana grimaced. “I’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She asked incredulously.

“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t stormed off like that, he wouldn’t have gotten to you,” he said, looking down.

“No one could have guessed that he would have made such a move,” she assured him. When he didn’t respond, she added timidly, “so, what made you come back?”

He looked back up at her. “When I was on the road, I met the Templar again. He… He told me that he’d disposed of you.”

“Would you have come back if that hadn’t happened?” She found herself asking before she could stop herself.

Cullen froze, and her heart practically stopped. “I don’t know. I admit, I was a fool, but I was so angry. I do not know when I would have returned.”

“I see,” was all she said, her voice suddenly distant.

Cullen gave her a plaintive look, before standing up once more. “You should get some rest, Inquisitor. Get well soon,” he said over his shoulder as he left the room.

Once Cullen was gone, Lythana turned her head away from the door, or fear that someone would see her while tears stung her eyes. The way he had called her ‘Inquisitor’, as he had done when they were fighting, was so formal, so distant, so _wrong_. It hurt. She cared for him already, she knew. But she worried that she had destroyed whatever it was that they had so completely that here was no going back.

Did he come back because he was truly worried for her, or simply because he felt responsible for her fate?

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her tears and worries to go away, and failing miserably.

******

Cullen sighed as he shut the door behind him. Whatever he had hoped to achieve by seeing her again, he had somehow managed to do the complete opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moar angst!  
> I've got a treat for you guys next chapter ;o should be up tomorrow!


	8. The Inquisitor's Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Lythana gets back on her feet again, Varric decides that it's time to celebrate. Drunkenness and bad decisions ensue.

It was a few days before Lythana was back on her feet. Numar had since left Skyhold, but between Solas, Vivienne, and herself, the healing process was going smoothly. The wound still had a ways to go, however. Numar had managed to patch up all the internal damage to her vital organs before leaving, but there was still a cut of notable size across her stomach and her back. It would only require one or two more healing sessions, but with everyone running around doing work for the Inquisition, there was hardly ever any time for it.

Even so, she insisted on doing what she could do for the time being, despite being unable to go out and fight. While she was healing, she would send out a few of her companions in her place to do what needed to be done outside of Skyhold, while she mostly took care of paperwork and involved herself in war meetings.

However much she liked and disliked being around Cullen then, he both made her heart flutter in excitement and her stomach drop in disappointment, she managed to push aside her feelings in favor of pouring herself over her work. Perhaps it was a distraction from both her injury and from Cullen, but it was an effective one nonetheless.

Another two days later, Varric returned from an assignment Lythana had sent him on and decided that it was time to celebrate the Inquisitor’s health. Lythana had tried to decline, insisting that she had too much work to do, but Varric refused to take no for an answer.

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when she found herself in the dining hall slightly off-balance, laughing and singing boisterously with the dwarf, with a large pint of ale in her hand and the rest of her companions laughing and clapping along. All except Cullen, of course. He was drinking along with them, but was seated at the end of their table looking rather sullen.

Lythana decided that she was still far too sober to deal with him and so she elected to ignore him for the time being.

“Inquisitor!” Varric exclaimed when they had finished singing their song. “I didn’t know you held your liquor so well!”

“Varric!” She exclaimed in return. “I’m offended you’d think otherwise. And it’s Lythana when we’re off duty.”

“And exactly how many drinks have you had, to get you so outgoing?” Varric asked teasingly.

She glared at him. “I’m fine!” She insisted. “I’ve only had…” She tried to count on her fingers, but when she ended up only being able to stare at her hand, she gave up. “A lot.”

Varric burst into uproarious laughter and attempted to give Lythana a clap on the back, but, forgetting their height difference, it ended up being a clap on her bottom. Lythana just laughed in return.

“My, Inquisitor,” came Sera’s voice as the elf sauntered up to her. “You sure are cheerful tonight. It’s certainly a nice change from you being locked up in your room all the time doing work.”

Lythana sighed as she took a seat at the table next to Sera. “It’s Lythana. Lee-thah-nah,” she drawled. “This whole ‘Inquisitor’ business is far too stuffy.” She scrunched up her nose and waved a hand dismissively.

Sera giggled. “How about I call you Ly?”

“Fine by me,” Lythana grinned, moving closer to the other woman. Sera seemed to notice this, because a sly grin spread across her face.

Sera scooted closer as well, until they were able to talk in hushed tones to one another without the others hearing. They more than likely noticed this new intimacy, but no one commented, so Lythana didn’t pay it any mind. Once or twice during their _conversation_ , Sera glanced over her shoulder and leered at Cullen, almost discretely enough for Lythana not to notice. Almost. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t paying attention to him.

Instead, she laid a hand gently on Sera’s thigh and mumbled against her ear, “Your eyes are quite lovely.” She then dropped her head onto Sera’s shoulder and grinned up at her, giggling.

There was a loud scraping noise from somewhere behind her and, within a few seconds, there was suddenly a rough hand around her wrist and she was being dragged to her feet. Faced with Cullen in all his stupid handsomeness, she frowned.

“What do you want?” She asked, slurring more than a little.

“Inquisitor, I think you’ve had quite enough to drink,” he said. The hypocrite. His face was a little red and he was most definitely slurring too. She must have said that out loud, because his frown deepened.

“I’m fine! Just ask Varric!” She proclaimed, gesturing to the dwarf who… Was now passed out. When did that happen?

“Inquisitor, I must insist,” he said and was that- was he being _patronizing_?

Lythana fumed. “Fen’Harel turn his gaze on you!” She yelled as she stormed out of the room, leaving the rest of her companions in stunned silence. Except for Varric, who was fast asleep, and Sera, who was grinning for some reason.

She heard footsteps hurry behind her, which she guessed must have been Cullen’s. As she was about to turn into her room, her wrist was being grabbed again and she was being dragged Creators-know-where.

“Cullen? Cullen, what are you doing?” She demanded angrily.

“I need to have words with you,” he responded, with just as much anger. They only stopped when they were in the privacy of Cullen’s office- uh, room.

“What do you want, Commander?”

“What was that?” He demanded.

“What do you mean?” She rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

“ _That_! With Sera! Just what were you doing?”

“What business is it of yours? And just who gave you the right to decide when I’ve had too much to drink?” She hissed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do! Not after you left like you did.”

Cullen winced visibly, and Lythana felt a mixture of both victory and regret. The knight made a strangled noise, and began gesturing silently as he tried to find his words. With the close proximity in which they were, he accidentally hit her square in the stomach. Lythana let out a cry as a stab of pain shot through her wound. That, doubled with how drunk she was, caused her to keel over. Cullen caught her just as she was about to hit the ground and lifted her up in his arms.

“Maker, Lythana, I’m so sorry,” he babbled as he carried her to his bed. There, he set her down gently and was about to move away when he was pulled back by Lythana’s fingers wrapping around his jacket.

She buried her face in his neck and sniffed. “You left, Cullen,” she croaked. “Why did you leave? Even after all those kind words, you left. Even for those few seconds, I was so lonely without you. Don’t leave, please don’t leave me again.”

Cullen’s stomach twisted guiltily. “I’m sorry. I was such a fool,” he said, and Lythana pulled away from his neck to frown at him, as if assessing whether or not he was being truthful. “Maker, how could I ever leave you? Forgive me, Inquisitor.”

“Lythana,” she corrected indignantly.

Cullen grinned and then, before Lythana knew it, he was pressing his lips to hers. At first it was soft and chaste, but then a latent hunger awoke in the both of them and it grew fiercer by the second. Lythana let out a small, shuddering moan as Cullen pushed his tongue into her mouth. Just as he was trailing his hands up her sides, he seemed to catch himself. He pulled back, leaving her head to flop onto the pillow. She frowned up at him.

“Regretting this already?” She asked, worry abundant in her tone.

“No,” he scoffed, sounding shocked. “Maker, no. You’re drunk, Lythana. So am I. I don’t want either of us making any rash decisions.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be that drunk if you’re talking like that.”

He smiled at her fondly, before getting off the bed. He pulled off both of her boots, before attending to his own, and then his jacket, and his armour. Lythana watched with a great amount of zeal.

“Creators, I could jump you right now,” she sighed.

Cullen couldn’t bite back the shocked laugh that escaped him. He climbed into bed beside her as he pulled the blankets over both of them, not bothering with the rest of his clothing, and wrapped his arms around her tentatively. When she snuggled into him, his grip grew tighter, more reassuring.

“Goodnight, Lythana,” he muttered, but she was already fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write! :3 Ahah, I love writing drunk people xD  
> Only one more chapter left in this fic though! And we'll finally be getting to the good bits >=3  
> Hope you guys are enjoying so far ^o^


	9. The Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up in bed alone, Lythana panics and goes to look for Cullen. Varric directs her to the baths. Shameless smut ensues.

When Lythana woke up, her head was pounding. She immediately regretted drinking so much the night before. Remembering just what had happened in her inebriated state, she felt her face flush. It took her a moment or two to realize that she was not, in fact, in Cullen’s bedroom anymore, but her own, and that Cullen was nowhere to be found. She panicked.

Had he left again? Had he regretted what they did last night and fled?

Just as she was sitting up, there was a soft knock on her door. Even that much noise made her head hurt.

“Yes?” She called (well, more like croaked).

Solas entered, looking amused. “Good morning, Inquisitor.”

“What is it?”

“I’m here to do the last of your healing,” he explained. “I figured your head could do with some healing as well.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but that hurt too much so she settled with a groan. “I want to scold you for that comment,” she said. “But I’m afraid you’re right.”

Solas chuckled as he walked further into the room. Lythana stood up, a little unsteadily, and rolled her shirt up to expose her bandages, letting Solas do what he needed to do. When he was finished with her back and abdomen, as promised, he performed a little healing magic on her head as well. Lythana sighed in relief.

“There, all healed,” he said.

“Completely?” She asked, a little surprised.

“Yes, completely,” he assured her in a bemused tone.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’d best be going,” he said, nodding, and left the room.

When he was gone, Lythana’s panic returned. She quickly dressed herself and hurried out of her room to look for Cullen. Perhaps confronting him about things wasn’t the best course of action, but damn it all, she needed to _know_ already.

She walked briskly through Skyhold, ignoring the amused looks she received from the people she passed. When he wasn’t in his bedroom, the war room, or the courtyard, her heart began to sink. It seemed more and more like he had left after all.

“Inquisitor,” Varric called cheerfully as he approached her. She gave him an exasperated look at being called ‘Inquisitor’, to which he responded by holding up his hands placatingly, and saying, “Right, right. Sorry.”

“Good morning, Varric,” she greeted, trying to hide her worry.

“You seem to be feeling well after last night,” he commented.

“Solas performed some healing on my head,” she explained with a laugh.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened between you and the Commander last night? Did you two…?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No,” she sighed. “He, um, put me to bed. After a lot of yelling.”

Varric laughed. “Our Commander sure is a chivalrous one.”

“Do you know where he is?” She asked. “There’s something I need to discuss with him.”

Varric paused, seeming to consider something, before replying. “I saw him just a moment ago. He was on his way to retrieve something from the baths.”

“The baths?” She repeated.

“Yeah, he left a shirt there or something. Wanted to go while no one else was there,” he explained.

“Thank you,” she said, turning and heading in the direction of the baths.

When she got there, the air was steamy and when she couldn’t see Cullen immediately, she began to worry that Varric had lied to her. She stepped in tentatively, clutching her hands to her chest as she looked around. She heard a splash from the bath to her left and she snapped her head to the side to see Cullen. Shirtless and wet, with only a loose towel hanging on his hips, obviously having just gotten out of the bath. She let out a screech in surprise and quickly covered her eyes with her hands.

“Lythana?” He called, obviously just as surprised that she was there.

“Oh dear, Cullen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just- Varric said that you-”

She heard a chuckle, closer this time than his voice had been before. She peeked through her finger to see him standing closer to her.

“It’s quite alright,” he assured her. “What made you come here?”

“Well, when I woke up in my bed, alone, I was worried,” she said, her voice uneven. “I thought you might have left again or something so… I went looking for you. Varric said you’d come here to, uh, fetch something. So I came here. I didn’t think-”

He was looking at her sadly. He took one of her hands in his gently, pulling it away from her face and then pressing his lips to her knuckles. She felt her face heat even more.

“Lythana, I’m not going to leave you again. I promise,” he said, still holding her hand firmly.

“So you don’t regret it? Kissing a mage?” She asked.

“No,” he whispered. “Never.”

“I don’t think I believe you,” she teased, suddenly feeling brave.

Cullen seemed to catch on almost immediately, because a smirk spread across his face, and then he was surging forward, crushing their lips together. Lythana let out a surprised squeak at the forcefulness of it. She gripped his shoulders lightly, relishing the warmth of his skin, while he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer to him. She moaned softly when he deepened the kiss, their bodies flush against one another. After a moment or two, he pulled back slowly, breathing just as heavily as she was.

“And now?” He asked.

She made a non-committal noise. “I’m still not completely convinced,” she grinned.

He let out a soft, breathless laugh. “Perhaps here isn’t the best place.”

“What do you propose, then?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he mumured roughly against her ear. “I could get dressed, then we could go to my room and I could spend some more time _convincing_ you.”

Lythana shivered. “That sounds most agreeable.”

“Good,” he said, pressing another kiss to her forehead before moving past her to get dressed.

She suddenly almost felt cold without him in front of her. When he was dressed, Cullen gestured for her to follow as he left the room. She did so obligingly.

Their walk through the halls was mostly silent, and Lythana’s heart hammered in her ears the whole time. As soon as they were in his room, and the door was shut and locked behind them, Cullen gathered Lythana up in his arms and kissed her once more. She threaded her fingers through his hair and gripped tightly, trying to get as close to him as was physically possible. Cullen took that moment to lift her up, holding her in place by her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and began carrying her to his bed. While he walked, Lythana pressed kisses, nipped and sucked at his neck, and couldn’t help but feel satisfied when his breathing became increasingly ragged.

When they reached his bed, Cullen dropped her onto it and, after removing both of their pairs of boots, crawled on top of her. He kissed her again, long and slow and deep, before moving down and sucking marks onto her neck. Lythana let out a shuddering sigh at the feel of his stubble scraping against her neck.

Deciding that he was wearing far too much clothing, Lythana began pushing his jacket from his shoulders. He was happy to her as he sat up, slid off his jacket, and then pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. She took a moment to appreciate the view, before he returned to placing sloppy kisses on her neck, while she ran her hands through his hair and trailed her nails over his shoulders.

Cullen sat up slightly once more, and began undoing the fastenings on her clothes. Lythana shivered again as his fingers brushed against her now-bare skin, tracing the line of the scar across her stomach.

“They couldn’t get rid of the scarring?” He asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “The damage was too extensive.”

He grimaced, and Lythana could tell that he still felt guilty about it. She didn’t think that anything she said would be able to convince him otherwise.

After undoing and tossing aside her undergarments, leaving her breasts bare to the cold, he leaned down and pressed a soft, but warm kiss to her scar. Then, he slid onto the floor, kneeling between where her legs were hanging off the bed, as he pulled off her trousers and underwear. Calloused hands gripped her thighs lightly as he gently spread her legs open.

A sharp gasp escaped Lythana’s lips as Cullen began running his tongue over her clitoris, and another when his tongue entered her sex. She mewled and moaned as he moved his tongue in and out of her, lapping and flicking his tongue at her clit every now and then. Pressure built between her legs steadily, and soon she found herself sitting up and gripping, perhaps a little too tightly, at Cullen’s shoulders.

“Oh, Creators, Cullen- Don’t stop, please, don’t-” She babbled as she climbed higher and higher.

He obliged her, and picked up his pace, and soon she was over the edge, nails digging into his shoulders and crying out his name as she came.

She fell backwards, breathing heavily. Cullen followed her onto the mattress and pressed a kiss to her forehead while she recuperated.

“Cullen?” She said, once she had caught her breath.

“Yes?”

“You’re wonderful,” she beamed, pushing him over and straddling him. Then, with a roll of her hips, she bent down and whispered, internally hoping that she didn’t sound as unsure of herself as she felt, “And I want you inside of me.”

Cullen groaned beneath her, and then pushed her back over. He crushed their lips together once more, sucking on her bottom lip as Lythana undid his breeches. Once they were off, Cullen seemed to come undone somewhat. He rested his forehead against her collarbone, breathing heavily as he pushed inside her.

It took a moment to adjust, but when she did, it felt wonderful. When he was satisfied that she wasn’t uncomfortable, he began to move.

His fingers gripped her hips tightly as he thrust into her, setting a steady pace. Lythana wrapped her arms around his neck, small moans escaping her with each snap of his hips. She moved her hands to grip at his hair and pull him closer for another kiss. He groaned into her mouth, picking up his pace.

Soon, it was all they could do to press their foreheads together and gasp desperately into one another’s mouths as the steadiness of Cullen’s pace began to falter.

“I’m going to—“ he grunted. “I shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” she gasped. “It’s fine. Whatever- If anything happens, I can take care of it.”

Cullen nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing into her harder. He moved one of his hands from her hips and began playing with her clitoris again and that- That was too much. She was over the edge again, nails scraping over his biceps, crying out without abandon and clenching around him. He thrust once, twice more, before he was coming as well, burying himself inside her as deeply as he could, with her name on his lips.

He collapsed on the mattress beside her, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, and wrapped his arms around her, while she curled into his chest. And they stayed like that, for a long time, finding themselves unable to care about what was happening outside of that room and knowing that they would be there for one another, no matter what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for 1000 hits! It really mean a lot to me!! ;^;  
> I apologise if the smut isn't top notch, it's the only the third time I've made an attempt at writing it ahah.  
> Please come say hi to me on tumblr at commander-handsomeface! Suggestions for pairings/what to write next would be much obliged~   
> As usual, a huge thanks to my betas for sticking through my shit xD


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